


On the Wing

by VileVenom



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Gen, Line of Durin, Minor Violence, Ri Brothers - Freeform, Ur Family, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VileVenom/pseuds/VileVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The races of Middle Earth have had wings as long as the eldest among them can remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is just a quick history of my own head canon for a history of Middle Earth, if the races had wings.
> 
> I didn't include Orcs or Goblins because, well...I don't think any of them would ever have wings.  
> Thus, they don't in this AU.
> 
> I'll be following this up with a chapter that actually features some characters soon enough =)

For as long as any living being in Middle Earth could remember, the makers had blessed their children with the gift of flight. Some, like the dwarrows of Mahal, had little need for the gift for their lives underground, and so allowed it to fade into historical obscurity among their people. While still others, like the elves of Eru, allowed their gifts to flourish and made it an integral part of their culture.

The wings of the peoples of middle earth would always vary greatly, though those of men were, from inception, the most vastly assorted and colourful, perhaps to make up for their short life span. Those of the elves grew long and large, due to their joy of flight, often dwarfing them in size, despite their height, the longest of their feathers trailing the floor. Yavanna, the creator of the Hobbits, wanted her children, who were timid and small, to be able to flee any that may threaten their homes, thus gave them great speed despite their diminutive size, both in wing and body. The dwarrows of Mahal received their wings from their creator as a means to make sure none of the other races had anything above and beyond his own, though as the mountain dwelling race had little to no use for flight, their wings shrank and became useless decorations, thus many began to bind them to keep them safe from those who would choose to treat them as weakness. And finally, the Istari, or wizards, of Valar, were given the ability to choose their wings at will, changing as their needs arose.

As time moved on, many of the races forgot the origins of their gifts, and thus many took their flight for granted. The men began to use their flight for war, and take away the gifts of those they felt unworthy, ripping away the feathers of those found ‘unjust’. Many elves became vain of their feathers, preening and prancing, looking down at those whose colours or wingspan may not be as impressive as their own. The Hobbits simply forgot as to why their creator gave them wings, rarely bothering to even stretch them out once they became of age, many even feeling that taking flight was improper for an older hobbit to do.

Of course, there are always exceptions to all things, and in all races.


	2. Preludes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves of Erebor never saw the point of flying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sort of leads into the next one I have planned.
> 
> Dis' wings are that of the Giant Coot, which has the ability to fly when it is young, but loses it as it gets older.

For as long as any of the race of dwarrow can recall, the gift of flight had been lost to them. Finding their maker’s gift to be of little use to their subterranean lifestyle, near all of their kind had hidden their wings away, finding them to be of little else but a burden of space and a weakness in battle. Those born with wings still able to take them into the air were rare, and rarer still were they encouraged to realize their gift and make any use of it. Any found with the ability often hid their wings away to their own accord, not wanting to appear different from their fellows.

Those of the line of Durin were not unfamiliar with this rarity.

When the young princess Dis was born under the mountain, the people rejoiced, and her parents and siblings protected her fiercely. Especially once it came to be known that the long black feathers that grew from her wings were strong enough to lift her into the air.

Her siblings would often sneak her out into upper courtyards, hidden away from all but the royal family, and watch her fumble through the air, snatching fruit from the highest bows of trees, and telling them of how far she could see into the distance, regaling them with stories of herds of Oliphants she could see tromping through the Wilderlands, and trees that were walking through their forests.

Once she became of age, her grandfather put an end to her adventures. He claimed that no princess under the mountain should be so wild, and ordered her to be watched and kept company by a guard, to ensure that her well-meant brothers would not smuggle her off. Her wings were bound and hidden under layers of cloth and lace, and laden down with heavy metals and jewelry. Over time, she lost the long black feathers that gave her wings the flight she so loved, and secretly craved. Her brothers collected those they could find, helping her to secret them away, as a memento of days spent in the sun.

When Erebor fell, the dwarrows of the Lonely Mountain sorely wished they still had the ability to escape through the air from the fire drake.


	3. There is nothing wrong with being different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili is the first dwarf born in an age with the ability to fly, and who isn't kept secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kili has the wings of a Crowned Eagle-Hawk, mostly for the coloration, but also because the males are known to be loud and showy.  
> Fili's wings are those of the Kakapo, which is a flightless parrot. I chose it because it's a personable bird with odd coloration, which reminded me a lot of Fili.

When the Lady Dis was gifted with not one, but two babes between the short span of five years, those between the Blue Mountains and Ered Luin considered it a good omen, and called it the blessings of Mahal upon the Line of Durin, after all their loss.

However, when her husband fell victim to the less than stable mines of the mountains, and her youngest son began to show signs of developing flight feathers as his wings grew, those who’d once called it a blessing began to change their tune. Perhaps the line of Durin really was well and truly cursed.

~

“Dis, don’t you think this sort of behavior-“

Dis shot her brother a sharp glare across the kitchen table, letting her spoon fall into her bowl with a sharp clatter. “What sort of behavior, Thorin?” she asked icily, arching an eyebrow as she settled back into her seat while folding her arms over her chest.

Thorin sighed heavily, swirling the porridge in his bowl around idly. “Encouraging him to keep his wings out,” he murmured, making a noise of protest when he felt a roll bounce off the top of his head. He frowned at his sister, who held another chunk of bread aloft in her hand.

“You had a very different tune when we were younger, if I do recall,” she snapped, throwing the bread at Thorin when it appeared that he was opening his mouth to speak. “You and Frerin used to encourage me to fly as much as I could when I was young! And I will never forget the feeling, nor will I forget how quickly and harshly it was taken away from me. You do not understand, brother, because you never had the chance, but flying is truly not the burden our people seem to take it for. I will not allow anyone to make my Kili feel as if he has to hide his gifts.”

“Very well,” Thorin murmured after a time, tossing a piece of bread back to his sister, earning a tiny smile for his effort, “if you really wish for him to learn, I will not stop you. Just be aware of the repercussions it may have.”

“I am fully aware, brother,” Dis hummed, taking a bite of her bread.

~

Kili pulled his wings tight to his back as he and Fili walked through the markets, clutching the basket his mother had trusted him with tight to his chest. The hushed whispers of the merchants and their fellow shoppers did not fall upon deaf ears. The young princeling could hear every murmur of ‘freak’ and ‘cursed child’ that fell from a dwarrows lips, not to overlook the hushed gossip of how his wings were a sure sign that the Line of Durin was falling out of favor with their creator.

“Don’t listen to them.”

Kili glanced up at his brother, who simply smiled apologetically at the young brunette, slinging an arm around his tensed shoulders.

“They’re just jealous that they can’t show off their feathers. They probably all have ragged looking messes under all their clothing. Plus, who wouldn’t be jealous at the fact that you can fly?” the blonde encouraged, though his reassurances fell rather flat when they both heard a rather distinct comment of ‘he looks like an elf’ come from one of the stalls.

“It’s okay,” Kili murmured, shifting his hold on the basket to take his brother’s hand with a wobbly smile. Fili returned the affection with one of his own, giving his little brother’s hand a little squeeze as they continued their shopping.

~

“Come on! We only want one stupid feather!”

Kili bristled as the other children surrounded him, his wings flaring out unconsciously, causing a couple to step back a little, but another to dart forward in an effort to pluck one of his primary flight feathers from his wing. He yanked in his wing back in time, dodging to the side as another tried to tackle him, springing into a quick barrel roll, before slapping low branches out of the way to get back out into the open. He’d been foolish in leaving the safety of the open valley next to the forest area around their village, cursing himself loudly for thinking, even for a moment, that any of his peers would treat him as a friend when they had never before given him the simplest of kindnesses.

He let out a happy whoop when he finally managed to burst through the underbrush into the open grassland that lead towards the village, spreading his wings out wide once he was a suitable distance from the trees, and he could hear the other children begin to burst through the foliage as well. He barely gave one last glance over his shoulder, before giving a couple great beats of his wings, using his momentum from running to propel him off the ground and into the air.

“That’s no fair!” he heard one of the children call as he flew as fast as his clumsy wings would carry him, back into the village, and back towards the safety of his mother’s watchful eye, and his brother’s protective bearing.

~

“Come on now, Kili,” Dis scoffed, hands on her hips as she stared up at Kili, who was clutching to the bark of the tree he’d been ordered to climb.

“But it’s so high!” the dwarfling shouted back, figuring he was a good fifty feet in the air. He hadn’t realized he’d climbed so high, simply pulling himself up the tree until his mother told him he was high enough for today’s lesson.

“You need to learn how to catch yourself when you fall,” Dis returned, folding her arms over her chest and tapping her foot on the ground with a faint hint of a smirk as she watched her child.

“Will you catch me if I can’t?” Kili called back, causing Dis to laugh.

“Would I really let you hit the ground from such a height?”

The princeling grumbled to himself over the insanity of his mother, before slowly letting go of the tree and shuffling further out on the branch he’d settled on, his wings trembling behind his shoulders.

“Now! When you begin to fall, and can feel the wind trying to push you back up, spread your wings, and pull up!” Dis called up, waving at her son that he could go.

Kili simply swallowed thickly, staring down at his mother, before closing his eyes and shoving himself off the tree branch.

“Kili! Open your wings!”

The young dwarfling obeyed his mother’s frantic calling once it registered over the harsh rushing of the wind in his ears. He shifted his weight, spreading his wings wide and pulling back, letting the wind fill his wings and push him back up, encouraging the motion with a few quick beats of his wings.

“Open your eyes, love!”

Kili finally did, after listening to his mother laugh for a time, gasping when he realized he’d managed to fly even higher than the branch he’d initially climbed to, doing a roll through the air in joy, letting out a few joyful shouts, before diving down to meet his mother in a hug.

“There you are, darling,” Dis hummed, petting the wild lock’s of her child, “There you are.”

~

“You should just go join the elves in the forest!”

Kili sighed heavily, the dark feathers of his wings prickling at the rather bold insult thrown at him as he walked with his brother, bow an arrows slung over his shoulder. They’d only just returned from a rather pathetic attempt at a hunting trip, only a few rabbits between the two of them to show for their efforts.

“That’s rather interesting, coming from someone who can’t even sling insults to our faces,” Fili commented, loud enough for anyone around, and perhaps the one who’d slung the insult, to be able to hear.

“Fili,” Kili murmured, placing a hand on his brother’s arm, easily seeing the way the blonde was tense and preparing himself to get into a fight with anyone who dare speak unkindly of his brother.

“They have no right,” Fili began, protests dying in his throat at the slight shake of Kili’s head, and the minute smile his younger brother offered.

“They can speak their minds all they wish. It will not change who I am, nor what mother has taught me. They can pass judgement upon me as much as they wish, but it will never come to fruition. I will not hide who I am to make others feel comfortable, nor will I bow my head to those who think they are better than me for my decisions,” Kili said simply with a small shrug.

Fili stared at his brother for a moment as they walked, utterly shocked by the younger;s words. “I-Kili,” the blonde murmured, earning a light laugh from the brunette.

“Come on. Mother will want us to skin these hares and clean them up so we can have them for supper tonight, and I’d rather not have a late one again,” Kili hummed, grabbing his brother’s hand and tugging him home.

~

“What are you doing?”

Fili smiled proudly at his speechless younger brother, before glancing over at their smirking mother, who simply waved at him to explain.

“Well. Mother and I were talking, and I think it’s ridiculous that we hide such a huge part of ourselves, even from each other. Everyone has wings, so it’s just silly that we pretend like we don’t,” Fili supplied, flexing the green and black speckles wings spread across his back.

“Fili, you don’t have to,” Kili whispered, doing his best to swallow back tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

The blonde simply scoffed, moving to sling an arm around his brother’s shoulders, tugging him into a one-armed hug. “Perhaps not, but I choose to,” he shrugged, grinning as Kili let out a wet laugh and returned the hug heartily.


	4. Not all adventures must be those that become tales

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belladonna Took was the wildest of the Took children.  
> Folks thought settling down with Bungo Baggins would change that.
> 
> They obviously didn't know her that well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo's wings-Sudan Golden Sparrow  
> Belladonna-Golden-crowned Emerald Hummingbird  
> Bungo-Northern Grey-Headed Sparrow
> 
> Also, a little more insight into the Hobbit's views on their wings in this AU:  
> While younger, it's expected that young hobbits will flutter about, but taking long flights is frowned upon. It's downright unseemly once you've become of age.

In the Shire, when children are born, they are taught how to fly by their parents. They are encouraged to flutter between the houses of their families, but not to stray any further. Their wings are made for speed, but are fragile things, especially in the young.

So, of course, the Took clan took it upon themselves to challenge this expectation. Old Took encouraged his daughters to fly to their hearts content, and they in turn taught their cousins how to find warm air currents that would lift them high into the sky.

Belladonna Took was no exception. She flew through the air with her sisters, and went on grand adventures with all sorts in her youth. She may have lost a feather or two along the way, but she never regretted a moment of it. Not even when a wayward wind current a the glancing blow of a sword sent her sailing into a tree, and broke several blood feathers, nor when a thieving man decided her feathers would be just perfect for his wears and pulled several of her secondary feathers from her wings.

It was to everyone’s great surprise when young Bungo Baggins declared his intentions to court Belladonna, who was considered the most wild of the Took children, going so far as to present her with one of his primary feathers. (It is an old, and rarely practiced tradition amongst hobbits, to present their intended with a primary flight feather to show their fidelity. Usually it is reserved for long courted couples who know they are only meant for each other.)

What was even more astonishing to those who protested the declaration was Belladonna’s eager acceptance. None had ever even fathomed the thought that the wild child would consider settling down, especially not with someone as quiet and timid as young Bungo.

But, the couple wed in bliss and settled into the smial Bungo built for his new wife atop the hill.

All in the Shire rejoiced to the news of Belladonna’s pregnancy, thinking that the once adventurous Took girl had finally settled into being a respectable Baggins of Bag End.

~

“Jump, Bilbo!” Belladonna laughed, waving her arms in the air at her child, who was sat on a rather low branch of an oak, looking nervously down at her.

Bilbo nodded down at her after swallowing thickly a couple of times, flapping his wings furiously as he shoved himself away from the tree, squealing as he mostly fell, but landed safely in his mother’s arms.

“Good job, my love!” Belladonna cheered, twirling them both around happily, Bilbo giggling in her arms, “Your first flight!”

“Mama,” Bilbo giggled, squirming as his face was peppered with tiny kisses. He finally managed to wiggle his way free, scrambling to climb back up the tree. “I’m going to try again!”

Belladonna simply smiled as she moved to catch her son again as he sprang from the tree.

~

“Come on, Bilbo,” Belladonna hummed, tugging her son along through the throng of weekend shoppers meandering about.

“Mama,” Bilbo whined, side-stepping yet another busied shopper, too distracted running about in preparation for the upcoming festival to pay attention to where their feet were landing.

Belladonna glanced back at her son, sighing heavily at the jostling of the crowd, before scooping her son up into her arms. “Shall we fly, then?” she asked, shifting her basket and propping her child on her hip.

Bilbo nodded eagerly, grinning widely as his mother spread her wings, those trying to crush past them jumping back in surprise, before Belladonna leaped into the air with a few good beats of her wings, tossing a giggling Bilbo into the wind once she hit a good thermal. He spread his wings happily, letting the air do a bit of work for him, before fluttering over to his mother, laughing as she made a face at him and called for him to race her home.

The two paid little attention to the whispers and disapproving stares of those on the ground below.

~

“Bilbo, darling, where are you off to?”

Bilbo paused in the doorway, flashing his mother a grin, even as his father huffed quietly behind the book he was reading.

“I’m going to go look for elves! Otho he’d help me, even though Lobelia said there was no way we could find them, even if we scoured the whole forest. So, obviously, I have to prove her wrong,” Bilbo stated matter-of-factly, puffing up a little as his mother nodded at him encouragingly.

“Oh, my,” she hummed, moving to fix her son’s shirt, laughing lightly as she was batted away, “You’ll have to tell me all about the elves you find when you return, right?”

“Of course,” Bilbo nodded, thanking his mother as she set him off with a small basket of goodies to keep his energy up while he was ‘elf hunting’.

“He takes far too much after you,” Bungo muttered from behind his book.

Belladonna turned on her husband, clicking her tongue as she stole his book and danced away with it, fluttering her wings and swishing her skirts, earning a laugh from her husband as he chased after her to get his book back.

~

”Whatever happened to the young hobbit who used to come home late into the evening, trailing fireflies and dirty feathers across the floor?”

The words echoed in Bilbo’s head, even as he paled while he watched his mothers china fly through the air, very tempted to snatch it out of the air, if he hadn’t been completely frozen out of shock, of course. He glared wholeheartedly at Gandalf once everything was settled safely back onto a flat, steady surface, not caring in the least bit for the knocking at his door, as he knew full well it was simply another dwarf who was probably going to threaten the well being of his home.

He was proven quite wrong when in fact, the dwarf offered threat to his own personal well being in the form of a rather well written, if a tad long, contract. It was no surprise to him when he fell flat on his back in a faint at the playful prodding of one of the other bothersome dwarves.

He hadn’t been expecting to wake in the morning to find his smial quite empty and quiet, aside from the pile of dishes in his sink. He wandered through the halls, half expecting one of the dwarves to jump out at him and yell ‘boo!’, as if his fright was some sort of grand game. When none appeared, he let out a relieved sigh, his wings drooping from their tensed position against his back.

He hummed quietly to himself as he wandered through his home, shifting around a few odds and ends that had been left out of sorts by the dwarves, pausing when his gaze settled on the contract he’d fainted over the night before. He chewed on his lip as his fingers hovered over the parchment, a brief thought of his mother’s happy face every time he told her of a new adventure he was planning to have flashing through his mind.

~

“Mister Baggins!”

Bilbo gave little notice to the outraged cry of his neighbor as he sped down the path from his smial, contract held tightly in his fist, ruck sack thumping wildly against his back in his haste. He let out a whoop, calling out to those curiously shouting at him that he was going on an adventure, even as he spread his wings out wide for the first time in what felt like an age. He could feel the wind singing through his feathers as he used the wooden fence surrounding one of his neighbors yards as a catapult to send himself into the air, soaring happily over the Shire to catch up to the small company of dwarves, ignoring the indignant shouts of those below.


	5. A series of Vignettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple short stories of various characters and their wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character wings:  
> Ori- Fuegian Steamer Duck  
> Bifur- Ostrich  
> Dwalin-Takahe
> 
> I chose each mostly for the coloration. The fuegian steamer duck has light grey feathers that reminded me of charcoal smudges for Ori, ostrich wings are primarily black with white tips, which went along with Bifur's general color scheme, and for some reason I imagined Dwalin having these really pretty things, thus the Takahe, which has blue/green/grey feathers.

1.

“Ori! Get back here!”

Dori huffed as he chased after his youngest brother, shooting a quick glare at Nori, who simply sat at the kitchen table, chuckling around his pipe. “You could help, you know,” the eldest Ri brother snapped, nearly running smack into the edge of the table as Ori scrambled underneath it with a shriek of childish delight.

“Hmm, let me ruminate on that for a moment…Nah. It’s far too amusing to watch you chase him around,” Nori hummed, rocking his chair back onto two legs.

Dori huffed at his brother, hands on his hips, only to sputter indignantly when Ori peeped out from behind Nori’s chair to blow a raspberry at him, then promptly run away again in a fit of giggles.

“You get back here this instant and put a shirt on, young man,” Dori snapped, taking off after the little dwarfling once more, frowning as Nori’s laughter followed him down the hall.

~

“Honestly, it’s not proper for you to be sitting out here like this.”

Ori blinked, startled out of the daydream his mind had wandered off to by his eldest brother’s voice. He turned his head to smile sheepishly at Dori, tucking his wings a little more tightly against his back. “Sorry. I kind of got caught up thinking,” he murmured, turning to head back inside from the tiny balcony just off from his room.

“You could at least put a shirt on before you get to thinking so much,” Dori fussed, tossing a shirt at Ori, who simply laughed, the feathers of his wings ruffling, before he shook his head and pulled his shirt on.

“I’ll do my best, next time,” the youngest Ri hummed, trailing a few light grey feathers as he moved to his writing desk.

~

“This is rather liberating,” Ori whispered excitedly to Kili, walking along next to the prince, settling his wings against his back after he’d managed to maneuver them through slits cut carefully into his shirt by the youngest Durin.

Kili simply laughed, patting Ori on the shoulder, flexing his own wings happily. “It is, isn’t it? I understand why some cover them up, but honestly, when I’ve had to hid them, they’ve been nothing but uncomfortable,” he hummed, stretching his arms over his head, before settling his hands behind his head in a lazy stance while they walked.

“I’ve always found them quite stifling, when I’ve had to wear my shirt over them,” Ori admitted with a small nod, “I mean, it only makes sense for most to cover them up, between soldier battling orcs, and smiths in forges, what with the risk of feathers catching fire, and such, but, yes. I have to agree, it’s ridiculous that we should have to cover them up all the time.”

Kili smiled brightly at Ori, slinging an arm around his shoulder as the two walked.

2.

Dwalin had taken to binding his wings tight and covering them with heavy layers of leather and fur since he was young. Not that he felt ashamed of the light blue and green tinted feathers, no. But because he viewed them as a rather large shortcoming when one wanted to be a great warrior.

He held it against none who wished to give their feathers air, of course. He’d even gone so far as to encourage Dis’ flight, before her grandfather forbid it, which after he’d helped to collect her primary flight feathers from the floors of the palace for the princess to keep. It was simply that he found his own wings to be nothing but a pain; constantly getting in the way of smooth movements while he was training, and a bulky weak spot that enemies could easily target.

And he, unfortunately, turned out to be completely correct in his assumption.

During the battle of Azanulbizar, Dwalin had been slicing through Orcs with Grasper and Keeper, while doing his best to try and keep an eye on both his brother and Thorin. His first mistake had been to turn when Thorin had fallen before Azog. His second was letting his guard drop when he’s tried to rush forward to help his fallen friend.

Dwalin could still remember distinctly the feeling of an orc blade slicing down his back, his leathers the only things saving his spine from being cut into. He shifted once the blade was free of his person, making to turn and take down the scum that had attacked him, only to feel the creature take hold of one of his now free wings and wrench it painfully out of its socket. He howled in pain, twisting, and just managing to bury one of his axes in the orc’s side, but not before it made short work of swinging it’s blade and roughly cleaving Dwalin’s wings from his back.

The warrior fell to his knees just as Azog let out a ferocious howl at the removal of his arm, Dwalin looking up in time to watch Thorin rally their troops into pushing the orc armies back into Moria. Somehow he managed to stagger to his feet and help to slaughter a few more of the putrid creatures that claimed Moria as their own, letting out a relieved puff of air once the last of the orcs had run off, and very nearly collapsing into his brother’s arms once Balin had found him.

So much for the hindrance of his wings.

3.

“Is-Does Bifur only have one wing?” Bilbo asked, startled into sitting upright next to the river the dwarves had deemed suitable to rest next to for the night, and use to bathe.

“Hmm?” Bofur glanced up at the hobbit’s question, before looking out towards his cousin, who was sitting happily in the shallow water washing his beard. “Aye,” he answered after a moment, watching their burglar out of the corner of his eye, “Got it cut clean off the same time he got the axe in his head.”

Bofur watched Bilbo’s face as it danced through several expressions, ranging from surprise to sorrow.

“I see,” Biblo finally hummed, nodding a little, his own feather ruffling slightly.

Bofur smiled lopsidedly at the hobbit, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t fret over it, Master Baggins,” he said jovially, “He certainly doesn’t.”

Bilbo offered the dwarf a small smile, nodding a little as he moved back to cleaning his waistcoat in the river.


End file.
